


yes, sir

by Anonymous



Series: dream smp shorts [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Explosions, Festivals, Injury, but super vague and dont wanna put the romantic tag for it, one-sided romantic shit, schlatt is a dick, there's like some really vague hints at like, yeah its just the festival cept big q's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: quackity is feeling unsure and scared after the festival.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt
Series: dream smp shorts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001529
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106
Collections: Anonymous





	yes, sir

**Author's Note:**

> regarding the one-sided (from big q) romantic shit i mentioned in the tags: im not shipping any real people, its based off of the canon in the dream smp  
> anyways yeah its just festival shit from big q! ive just been wanting to write something from his pov, so, and i havent been getting any ideas after the latest stream unfortunately, so we're going back to the festival.  
> ALSO I HATE THE TITLE LMAO i couldnt think of anything better. ill change it if i do tho

quackity stands, poised, at his president’s side as he watches techno raise that crossbow at tubbo. the kid, trapped, terrified. quackity grimaces, side-eyeing his president. 

“this is too far, we don’t-” he starts, chest constricting at the glare schlatt shoots him, “schlatt, he’s already trapped-”

“kill him, technoblade,” schlatt cuts him off. cold and composed. a bright smile, too full of malice to be genuine, taking over his sharp features. 

“schlatt, come on,” quackity insists, now, fully turning his head to look at his president, fists clenched at his side. “he’s just a kid, we don’t need to  _ kill him _ -”

but it’s too little, too late, as quackity turns his head to look at tubbo again he catches the tail end of techno shooting his crossbow. he can’t even cry out, do  _ anything _ , just watches helplessly as time seems to go in slow motion. the rocket crashed into tubbo’s chest and explodes in a burst of sparks. he doesn’t have time to process that it  _ was a fucking explosion _ and is thrown to the side, falling off of the stage. he was too close. not close enough to die, though. 

he almost wishes he was. 

quackity lifts his head - there’s laughter, who is that from? - and sees technoblade himself,  _ blood for the blood god _ , cackling with clear, abject bloodlust as he reloads his crossbow and shoots at the crowd multiple times in quick succession. he remembers why he was filled with terror when he learned that the pink-haired warrior had joined pogtopia. this was why. quackity looks to the side, struggling to sit up as he sees schlatt, only a few feet away. 

“schlatt, c’mon,” he wheezes, crawling over, grasping at his president’s arm. he ignores the burning pain in his side in favor of getting the other man up. 

quackity doesn’t remember too much of the rest of the night. he zones out for a lot of it - at least tubbo didn’t die, he notes. he hopes. tommy had collected his friend at some point, leaving with tubbo’s unconscious - but not  _ dead _ \- body. so hopefully. hopefully the kid was okay. he desperately wanted tubbo to be alright. just thinking about the incident made him feel wracked with guilt - he should’ve done more, realized what was happening sooner, should’ve realized of course they weren’t  _ just _ imprisoning tubbo-

a hand on his shoulder startles quackity out of his thoughts. 

chancing a quick glance - right. it was just schlatt. quackity had half a mind to be embarrassed in this condition - he’s shirtless, trying to fix those bandages covering the burn wounds around his abdomen, and his beanie is off for once, showing his disheveled dark hair. 

“hey, alex,” schlatt greets, a cruel glint in his eye. he only uses that name  _ very _ occasionally. “i can still call you that, right?”   


quackity fights back a grimace as he looks down, trying to busy himself with his previous task. “yeah, sure.”

“i noticed you tried to, ah, disobey me, there, during the festival, alex,” schlatt continues without a second thought, voice completely casual. relaxed. 

“i wasn’t disobeying,” quackity says, quiet, tugging those bandages tight. “i was- well, schlatt, i was confused. i didn’t know you were going to have tubbo  _ killed _ .”

“you’re my vice president, right, alex?” there’s a hard edge in the other man’s voice now.

quackity feels himself freeze, his muscles tense up. “sure, schlatt.”   


“say _ sir _ .”

he grits his teeth. “yes,  _ sir _ .”

schlatt’s smile can almost be heard in his voice. “thank you, alex. you’re my vice president, you aren’t supposed to be questioning me. you’re supposed to be following me.”

“we’re  _ supposed _ to work together,” quackity bites back, finally shrugging off that hand on his shoulder. he turns to look at schlatt, crossing his arms. “we’re  _ supposed _ to be a team. yeah, you’re the president, schlatt, i get it, you’re the boss, but i’m supposed to be helping here. i’m supposed to be the second-in-fucking-command. like i know i ‘got the fattest ass in the cabinet’ or whatever the fuck, but-”

“shut the hell up,” schlatt snaps and despite himself, quackity does as he says. “i’m in charge here, got it? you do not fucking speak to me like that. all you have to do is sit there and look pretty for me, right?”   


quackity doesn’t respond at first. he just stares at schlatt, watching the anger shift in the other man’s red eyes. he hates this. he hates being here, with this fucking goat man, being treated like an object. he doesn’t know why he’s still fucking here. 

“ _ right _ ?” schlatt asks again with a scowl, when no response comes. 

quackity bites the inside of his cheek, and grounds out a “yes, sir.” 

schlatt smiles, a cold, disgusting expression to be frank. “thanks, alex. get to bed, its late.”

quackity, without much more fanfare, pushes past his president - ignoring the bile in his mouth at the thought of calling schlatt by that title - and leaves the room entirely once he shoves a discarded hoodie onto him. it’s not his usual attire, nor is it that fucking suit, but he’s alright with it for now. he forgets his beanie, leaving his head uncomfortably bare. he retires to his room, or what he thought of as such. he collapses on his bed - god what a fucking night. his side was still aching, and it prickled a little as he thought of tubbo. 

he’s going to have to apologize the kid next time he sees him. 

well. quackity grimaces. so long as schlatt isn’t around, anyway. 

not for the first time, he thinks of leaving. of joining pogtopia. of completely, utterly, opposing schlatt. it makes his heart hurt thinking about it. he’d miss what he has here, even if its not much. 

he has a home, even if its just this little bedroom. 

he has schlatt, even if the older man doesn’t care much for him. 

quackity misses the quiet moments they had at first. the barely whispered words and light touches. but now every time he talks to schlatt it just feels like hes being poisoned. everytime he’s touched by schlatt, it’s like a knife is being twisted into his gut and his skin burns with every trace of contact. he hates it so, so much. 

but he can’t leave. 

he wants to. 

he’s not sure what could make him leave. he feels like he’s teetering on the edge - of what, he’s not sure. actually leaving, abandoning this place, maybe. finding a home somewhere else. somewhere where he doesn’t feel like bile is constantly in his throat, threatening to make him puke. it feels like if one more thing happens, he’s just going to fall over the edge, and he’s just going to have to see where that gets him. 

quackity rolls over onto his side, closing his eyes. he needs some fucking sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> ive been thinking of writing a longer story - maybe a multichapter one? if anyone has any encouragement regarding it :) im not sure what itd be about other than sbi centered but it might come into existence


End file.
